5. Dominic
FIVE
Dominic
T hat happened. I kissed Carlos Deluca’s daughter. And I couldn’t give a single damn about the consequences. Hell, if Carlos wanted to put a bullet between my eyes right now, I’d welcome it. My pulse quickened at the memory of how she’d felt in my arms, how her lips had tasted like danger and temptation all at once.
I knew the game. I knew how to play it. But with Isabella? I didn’t know a damn thing anymore. It wasn’t lost on me that I was fucked. Women never distracted me, which is why Isabella made this even more dangerous.
I walked through the doors to our Manor, taking a deep breath and trying to push the images of her out of my mind. But there was no escaping it. That girl— she was worth every risk, every consequence.
But I wouldn’t let it slip.
Before I could reach the stairs, I heard a voice.
“Ciao , Dominic !” I started at the sound of Alessandra’s voice.
“Why is my big brother so jumpy?” She laughed.
She was perched on the staircase, arms crossed, leaning slightly forward. She always had that way of catching me off guard.
I paused, glancing over at her, a sigh already leaving my lips. “I’m not jumpy?” I muttered, brushing it off like it was no big deal.
Her grin widened, a knowing look in her eyes. “I can tell you know. That you have something on your mind.”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to show how much her observation had cut a little too close to the truth.Something? No. But s omeone was definitely on my mind. My mind kept circling back to Isabella.
Alessandra didn’t miss a beat. She raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting with that familiar curiosity she always used to get under my skin. “You’re thinking about a girl, aren’t you? Who is she this time? Another woman you’re pretending not to be interested in?”
I shifted uncomfortably, trying not to let the slight tug in my chest betray me. There was one before. I hated that reminder. I wasn't about to let Alessandra push any further, so I shrugged it off with a half-smile. “You think I’ve got time for distractions?”
She let out a huff of disbelief. “Yeah, sure, Fratello . Keep telling yourself that.”
I didn’t respond right away. Instead, I stared at her. The thought of how she'd grown crept into my mind. She’s fifteen. She’s only a kid . I couldn’t help but feel protective of her—my only sister. What would I do if someone ever touched her? There would be no saving the man who dared.
“I don’t have time for this,” I muttered, heading toward my father’s office, trying to push her words out of my head.
As I moved into the meeting room, my father and a few capos were already gathered, the low murmur of their conversation fading as I stepped inside. My father looked up from the table, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Dominic, come, sit. We need to talk,” he said, his voice firm.
I sat at the table, letting my eyes drift to each man present. They all had their own way of looking at me—some with respect, others, the older ones, loyal to my father, with calculated patience. Some were waiting for me to take my place.Others doubted I had the balls.
“I’ve been going over the details,” my father began, his voice cold, steady. “The shipment’s coming in, but we need to discuss the next steps. I’m starting to doubt we can trust Carlos.”
The muscles in my shoulders tense, my hands curling into fists beneath the table. My father had been working with Deluca for years, but lately, it seemed like there was more to the story than he was willing to admit.
“You’ve been doubting him for months,” I said, keeping my voice even, the words like ice. “But if we want peace and progress in this city, we need to keep working with him. You know that.”
My father’s gaze hardened as he leaned forward, his voice dropping low. “Trust is earned, Dominic. It’s not something we give away because we need it. You forget who Carlos is.”
I felt the weight of his stare, felt the tension building, but I didn’t flinch. “You think I don’t know who he is? I’m not a child anymore.”
I leaned in, meeting my father’s gaze, my voice cutting through the room. “But if we want to take control of this city, if we want to make NOLA ours , we need him. Right now, there’s no other choice. If we burn him now, we have nothing. It’ll be chaos.”
The capos exchanged glances, murmuring under their breath, but my father didn’t look away. The silence that followed was thick.
“You trust him that much?” he finally asked, his voice laced with something dangerous.
I met his eyes. “I trust Rico and the future we have wanted for this city since we were boys. Besides, Carlos isn’t stupid. He knows better than to stab you in the back.”
There was a long pause before my father spoke again, his tone quieter. “We’ll see.”
The tension in the room hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. I knew he wasn’t fully convinced, but it didn’t matter. At least not right now.
I leaned back in my chair. I wasn’t just playing this game for my father. I wasn’t playing it for Deluca, either. I was playing it for myself. For my family. And I would do whatever it took to keep everything—everyone—under control.
Even if it meant trusting people, I shouldn’t.
The club was alive, music pounding through the speakers, the smell of smoke and expensive cologne permeating the air. It was one of our usual haunts, where we could let off some steam and be amongst our own.
Rico was sitting at our VIP booth, dressed to kill, as usual—tailored suit, white shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off his tattoos. He waved his whiskey glass at me as I approached.
“Dominic! Mi amigo ! You’re late!”
I forced a half-smile. “Yeah, well...business.”
Rico raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? No, no, wait, it doesn’t matter because I have some pretty senoritas to keep us company tonight?”
I shook my head. “Not in the mood, Rico?”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “ Perdóname, amigo . I’m trying to change that.”
He signaled to one of the waitresses, and she immediately brought us two more glasses of whiskey. We clinked them in a silent toast before downing them in one go. The burn felt good as it traveled down my throat.The waitress was back with another one just as quickly.
“So,” he drawled, “It’s been a hell of a week, and I’m ready to blow off some steam.”
I nodded, half-listening. He was already deep into that celebratory mood, a smile spread across his face like it was permanent. “Yeah, it’s been one of those weeks,” I replied, my tone even, my mind drifting elsewhere as I scanned the crowd.
I could feel his eyes on me like he was trying to get a read on my mood. He always did that—read people like an open book, except when it came to me.
“Everything alright?” he asked, his usual grin never leaving his face.
“Yeah, just…” I swallowed the whiskey, then waved him off. “You know, same old shit. Our fathers, this business, it’s never gonna stop,” I paused, the words coming out in a heavy sigh. “How can those fuckers be in business together when they barely trust each other?”
Rico chuckled, clearly not catching the fullness of my words. “Man, that’s just the way it is. Deluca and Saviano have been at each other’s throats for years. Why change it now? Let’s just have a good night. Forget all the bullshit for once. The old men can sort their mess out. Soon, you and I will be at the helm, and in a few years, we’ll be pointing guns at each other.”
I looked to the dance floor, the movement of bodies blending into the flashing lights of the club. But it wasn’t the dancing that caught my attention—it was Isabella. She was there, moving to the beat, her body a fluid wave of motion that drew everyone’s eye. I could see the guy next to her, his hands a little too low on her hips, his body too close for comfort.
The heat in my chest flared, a possessive, irrational anger rising at the sight. My grip on the glass tightened. I was aware of Rico still talking beside me, but the words blurred, drowned out by the primal feeling surging through me. She didn’t belong to him.
Rico slapped me on the back, his voice loud and carefree. “Dominic, you’re really not listening, huh? Get your head in the game! Come on, let’s have some fun.”
But I didn’t hear him anymore. All I saw was Isabella—too close to that guy, her body pressing against his. A sharp breath left my lungs. Without another word, I stood and headed straight for the dance floor, ignoring Rico’s shouts behind me. He’d survive. He’d have a girl on his lap in a few minutes, and I would be the furthest thing from his mind.
I didn’t even think about it. I just moved.
The idea seemed ludicrous, but there was no denying the urge in me. Something about watching her with that guy's arms on her felt wrong—it felt like I couldn’t stand it.
I kept my eyes locked on Isabella, ignoring the others around me. She didn’t notice me at first, too lost in the music, her head tilted back slightly, eyes closed. The guy, oblivious to my gaze, pulled her a little closer, his hand sliding dangerously lower on her hip.
Something snapped inside me.
I couldn’t think straight anymore.
In one swift motion, I reached out and gripped her wrist, pulling her away from the guy. She looked up at me in surprise, her eyes wide, lips parted as she tried to pull away.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, her voice sharp, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes that made my chest tighten.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. My fist connected with the fucker’s face, and he went down, with a bloody nose and probably a bust lip.
Without a word, I swung her effortlessly over my shoulder, ignoring the startled yelp she let out. She wasn’t going anywhere—not with him, not with anyone.
“Dominic!” she hissed, her voice laced with both anger and confusion. “Put me down!”
I didn’t, though. Instead, I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the stares and murmurs that followed us. She kept hitting my back with her fists, but the weight of her body over my shoulder only made my pulse race more.I could feel her body shifting against me, her heat against my skin.
“You can’t do this!” she continued, her voice a mix of frustration and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Let me go, now. Rico will see.”
But I was already heading out the door, my mind made up. I wasn’t going to let her stay there, dancing with a man who had no right to have his hands on her. The bouncer nodded a greeting, knowing better than to try to intervene.
I didn’t care what anyone thought, and I sure as hell didn’t care how reckless it was.
The cold air hit us as I stepped outside, and I could feel her body stiffen, the rhythm of her breathing changing as I carried her toward my car. My driver opened the door, and I set her down just outside the car, her feet hitting the pavement, but I didn’t let go of her.
“Don’t move,” I commanded. I took off my jacket, draping it around her. The flimsy dress did nothing to hide her curves.
“Dominic,” she breathed, her eyes meeting mine. There was something raw in them, something I couldn’t ignore anymore.
“Get in,” I said simply, voice low and firm, not giving her a chance to argue.
She hesitated for a split second before she finally climbed into the car. I slid in after her, the air between us crackling with something unspoken. The drive was silent except for the hum of the engine and the weight of everything between us—her anger, my need, the tension I couldn’t seem to shake.
By the time we arrived at my apartment, I could tell she was still pissed, but there was something else—something simmering beneath the surface. The way she refused to look at me, the way her body was so tense, it told me she was just as affected as I was, but neither of us was willing to admit it.
I led her inside, the door closing behind us softly. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating in its intensity.
Without a word, I pulled her toward me; this time, she didn’t resist. I brushed a strand of hair from her face, her breath catching in her throat as our eyes met, the space between us shrinking with each passing second.
“Do you want to keep fighting me?” I asked, my voice hushed, my lips barely an inch from hers.I pushed the jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. She shivered, but not because of the temperature; my apartment was warm enough.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled me closer, her lips meeting mine with a desperation I hadn’t expected. It was frantic, heated—raw. She tasted, and I responded in kind, my hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her flush against me.
It was too much, too fast, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.
And when she kissed me again, more slowly this time, the world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of us—unspoken words, unacknowledged desires, and the weight of everything that had built up between us.
“I don’t know how to stop fighting,” she said breathlessly.
“Then don’t.” I kissed her neck, and she trembled slightly. “Tell me to stop, and I will, Isabella. But give me a good fucking reason to.” My voice was low. I couldn't hide my hunger anymore. I pulled back just enough to see her face, the way her eyes flickered with that same mix of confusion and something darker—something that mirrored the storm brewing in my chest.
Her breath came in shallow bursts, her lips parted, and neither of us spoke for a moment. Her hands rested lightly on my chest, fingers twitching like she might push me away, but something in her eyes said otherwise.
I waited, every inch of me coiled and waiting for her answer. I didn’t know why, but I needed to hear her say it. Needed to hear her tell me that this was a mistake—that she was better off walking away, getting out of this tangled mess we’d found ourselves in. I needed to hear her words, but the silence stretched on, thick with the weight of unspoken truths.
“Dominic…” she breathed. Her voice was hushed but edged with a question.
I could see it in her eyes—the struggle, the internal battle. The attraction, the pull, and everything else have been building between us since we met. It was all there, laid bare between us, just inches from shattering completely.
But I knew there was hesitation, and it made sense. Her fear was warranted. And part of me—the same part that told me to take her, to pull her deeper into this—wanted to soothe it, to make her feel something other than this.
“I’m not going to force you,” I said quietly, my hand brushing the side of her face. God, she was perfect. I knew the delicate line between what we were on the edge of and what would ruin everything, but she was everything I wanted. “But I need you to know, Isabella... this thing between us, I am all in - consequences be damned.”
Her eyes flickered with something sharp and vulnerable at once, each breath quick, the sound of it cutting through the thick air like a knife through silk. Her lips, swollen and trembling, parted ever so slightly as her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of a caged animal, her nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her dress, begging for attention. She was a fucking wreck, and it was beautiful.
“It’s dangerous,” she whispered, her voice a fucking siren song laced with fear and desire. Her eyes—those goddamn eyes—flickered closed for a heartbeat, then fluttered open, a storm of lust and uncertainty churning in their depths. She was teetering on the edge, and she fucking knew it.
“Maybe it is,” I growled, my voice low and dripping with raw hunger. My cock was already throbbing, straining against the confines of my pants. I stepped closer, my body inches from hers, the heat between us enough to set the room ablaze. “But some things are worth the danger. You’re worth it.”
And just like that, the tension snapped. The air crackled with electricity, and there was no turning back. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Her body spoke volumes, every inch of her quivering with the kind of need that could bring a man to his knees.
I pulled her against me with a force that left no room for hesitation. Her body melted into mine, her soft curves molding to my hard lines like we were fucking made for each other. Her hands found my shoulders, fingers splaying against the fabric of my shirt, her nails digging in as if she was afraid, I’d vanish if she let go.
“Fuck,” I hissed, my mouth crashing down on hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was savage, primal, a fucking battle for dominance that neither of us was willing to lose. Her lips were sweet fucking sin, and I couldn’t get enough. My tongue plunged into her mouth, exploring every inch, claiming her in the most carnal way possible.
She moaned into me, the sound vibrating straight into my goddamn soul. Her hands moved up to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer and urging me on. My other hand slid down to grip her ass, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. She gasped against my lips, her hips grinding against mine, the friction sending shockwaves through my body.
“Christ,” I growled, breaking the kiss to trail my lips down her neck. She tilted her head back, giving me full access to her throat. I bit down, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make her whimper. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, desperate to feel my skin against hers. I let her. My own hands were busy with the zipper of her dress. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a fucking scrap of lace. I could see every inch of her—every curve, every freckle, every goddamn imperfection that made her flawless.
“Bed,” I commanded, my voice rough with need. She nodded, her eyes burning with the same hunger consuming me. I scooped her up in my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carried her to the bed. She laughed when her back hit the mattress, and I was on her in an instant, my mouth finding her nipples through the lace, sucking and biting until she was writhing beneath me.
“Please,” she begged, her voice a fucking plea that went straight to my dick. “I want to feel you.” I was just as impatient as I ripped the lace off her body, tossing it aside like the useless barrier it was.
“Please what, beautiful? Use your words.” I pushed a finger inside her, and she was soaked, her arousal coating my fingers in a testament to how much she wanted this—wanted me.
“I want you inside me, Dominic. Now.”
I smirked. Mt girl didn’t have to ask twice. I positioned myself between her legs, my cock pressing against her entrance. “Look at me,” I demanded, and she obeyed, her eyes locking onto mine. “You’re mine.”
“Yours.” She repeated.
And with that, I thrust into her, burying myself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. She cried out, her nails raking down my back as I stretched her, filled her, and claimed her in the most delicious way possible. I didn’t give her time to adjust—I couldn’t. The need was too fucking strong.
I set a punishing pace, fucking her with a ferocity that left no room for doubt. She was mine—every moan, every gasp, every goddamn inch of her. Her legs wrapped tighter around me, pulling me deeper as she met every thrust with one of her own.
“Harder,” she breathed, her voice breaking on the word. “Like you mean it.”
I complied, slamming into her with enough force to make the bedframe creak. Her pussy clenched around me, her orgasm building with every thrust.
“Come for me,” I growled, my voice a command she couldn’t ignore. Her body obeyed beautifully, her back arching off the bed as she came undone beneath me. Her pussy spasmed around my cock, milking every drop of pleasure from me as I followed her over the edge.